Recruit

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

I wake up with the feel of a presents around me. I open my eyes and Castiel is just, watching me. I roll over and groan.

"Man, I love you like a brother, but it's kind of creepy."

"What is?" So innocent and stupid.

"Watching me sleep."

"Dean says the same thing." And he's gone

"Thanks!" I shout to Castiel but at that moment Clint walks in.

"Thanks for what?" He leans against the for frame in black sweats and a black sabbath tee.

"For last night, I have nightmares when I don't have Baby." I cover.

"No biggie, you're too young to be having that sort of thing, though." I put on a big sweater and don't bother changing my fluffy grinch pants.

"What sort of thing?"

"Nightmares, practically PTSD." I follow him into the kitchen where mini sausages are cracking in their own oils.

"I don't have PTSD."

"Exactly! So why have nightmares? No wars? No major battles? What's in your head that's that traumatizing?"

"My mom died when I was six months, I was practically raised by my godfather, and I was raised in a hunting life, that's no ideal existence for anyone. Plus I'm finding out I've got demon blood in me and my dad was gunna' gank me for it." I list off, there's more but oh well.

"Touché, demon blood?" He cocks an eyebrow at me.

"Ya, little demon dropped some into my crib when I was a baby, then slaughtered mommy. But I guess he abandoned plans for me, just have me the benefits." I shrug, but for a moment I swear I can taste blood.

"Interesting."

We eat then I change back into the catsuit that I'm beginning to despise less and less, I kind of look good in it but it's still uncomfortably fitted. I lace up my black jungle boots and put my hair in a ponytail the get in my car and follow Clint.

"So today, Marc if gunna' be training with you. Honestly he's a creep, don't be afraid to tell him to lay of or find me, I'll be in the range just down the hall." He warns, I now feel very uncomfortable in the catsuit again.

"Got it, I'll be fine. Im a big girl." I put on my game face and we walk towards a broad, greasy looking guy standing my an open corridor.

As we get closer I see he's pretty beefy. His black hair greased back, curling at the nape of his neck. His five o' clock shadow makes him look even worse. You can smell the gel and tobacco on him.

"Marc. This is Keegan, you're training her today." He approaches the man boldly.

"Ah yea, Keeegaan." He draws my name out in a low deep, New York accent that makes me sick.

"Not fucking around, she needs to be trained. Kepeash, keep her in one piece." Clints firm stand is very concerning, he's usually very gentle and quiet.

"I'll take good care a' er', don't worry Hawk." He hits Clint on the arm, a little less than friendly.

"Ya know? I think I'll sit in and observe. See how it's done." I stay quiet, now nervous, and queasy that Clints so reluctant to hand me off to this guy but is perfectly fine with putting a gun to Baby's head.

"No can do. Solitary training, less pressure on little miss ere'." I decide to speak.

"Clint I'll be fine. If anything goes south I'll find you."